


The Witch's Wiles

by Selene_Dreamwalker



Series: World Traveling & Evil Fighting [2]
Category: Girl Genius, Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Electrocution, F/M, Kissing, Lucrezia is Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 11:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2770667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selene_Dreamwalker/pseuds/Selene_Dreamwalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot. Detailing what Lucrezia rescued the Heterodyne brothers from, and when Bill dropped by her room. She's not what he was expecting, and he really shouldn't be as enthralled as he is. She hadn't really expected to actually fall for him. Damn her soft heart, anyway.</p><p>Bill's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Witch's Wiles

**Author's Note:**

> I torture Bill a bit. (Sorry Not Sorry, right?) All but promised future naughtiness.

Bill thought he might've listened to Klaus about this family a bit more. Especially the daughters.

_-pain-_

Oh, he'd heard about the Mongfish sisters; who hadn't? Supposedly, their father, Lucifer Mongfish, wasn't far off the old Heterodynes. Demonica, the eldest, had gotten away, married a clever, hard-nosed Spark who'd asked the man to his face for his daughter's hand, and gotten it, somehow. Serpentina, the middle girl, was some kind of wild woman, run away and married foreign nobility, that Lucifer couldn't object to. The youngest, Lucrezia, was still with him, as an assistant the rumors said, and more besides. Bill hadn't paid much attention, until he and Barry had gotten word of some plot Lucifer had in motion set to kill a great many, and harm a great many more.

_-pain-tensed muscles-can't move-_

Turns out, it was all lies. A lure, to get them there, and Klaus was always telling them to look for things like this. Bill could just see the other man's stern, grumpy face lecturing, relief in his grey eyes that they were alright and-

_pain-tensed muscles-can't move-body shaking with it-gotta be electricity_

-and maybe he ought to pay attention to the Spark trying to torture family secrets out of him.

Barry was silent on the slab next to him. They'd learned, begging for it to stop made them go longer and harder.

Bill panted, limp in the restraints which were all that was keeping him upright and trembling from weakness, his vision hazy but enough to see two blurry shapes in front of him. One he recognized as Lucifer. The other . . . was that _pink_?

Then his hearing came back. "-caught the Heterodyne brothers, father! But why are you torturing them straight away, didn't you say waiting was sometimes harder, with Sparks? And this deserves to be celebrated, surely." A woman's low voice, demure and submissive, but quietly excited and somehow flat. Much as he liked her voice, he decided she must either be a minion or a supremely stupid minor Spark. You did not interrupt Sparks when they were torturing people, you either ended up dead in a hurry, smacked around for your trouble, or on the slab with the poor souls that were- did she say _father_?

His vision cleared enough to get a good picture, and his brain just about melted. The most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on (which was saying something, because after their _good_ reputation had gotten around, there'd been almost no end to women - and a few men - flocking to them) was standing in front of Lucifer, head of bright blonde hair bowed, eyes (green, a green that ought to be vibrant but was such an unhappy dull he almost wanted to cry) cast down as Lucifer frown severely at her, seeming to be considering her comment.

And it was a comment. She'd made no command, nothing definite. A suggested course of action, just a small thing he'd maybe overlooked, nothing major. That's what her voice said, her posture, everything keyed to not offend, to not be noticed overmuch. When Lucifer raised his hand to her chin to tilt her face up, the most minute of flinches, unnoticed by the older Mongfish, went briefly across her features.

Bill thought he might hate Lucifer, just for the blonde woman's flinch.

"Yes, that _is_ a good idea. But didn't all the good liquor-?" He was doing it? Color Bill shocked. Corner of his eye, he saw Barry about as stupefied.

"No, there's still your private store. You haven't touched it since Serpentina sent news of her husband." The woman, who had to be Lucrezia, stated woodenly, no life in her voice, no expression on her face.

"I haven't, have I? Past time I cracked one open then, isn't it? Glad I thought of it." What? Bill shared a glance with Barry, who looked equally bewildered.

"Of course, father." And she entirely unsurprised, like this was a common occurrence. Likely, it was. Damn the man.

"You tidy this up for me, would you, darling? Wonderful." And he left.

Barry and he stayed silent, as she did what he'd more or less ordered. Blank-eyed, robotic movements. Barry caught his gaze, shook his head. _'Lost cause'_ , he meant, _'nothing left to save_ '. The hell there wasn't, she'd just got her father to stop torturing them both. There was something there, deep, buried, but something there. Bill just knew, and he almost desperately wanted it brought to light. He was sure it'd be a wondrous thing to see.

She walked over to them, took the electrodes off of Bill's body, checked over the restraints to make sure they were secu- waitaminute, was she-yes! She was loosening them!

When she'd finished, she walked to the door, heard her father laugh raucously, well on his way to smashed, looked back at them with her still empty eyes, put one finger to her blood-red lips, saying _sotto voce_ , "Wait about another ten minutes, that'll be how long until the enhanced brew has him really out of it." And _she_ left.

Bill wanted almost nothing more than to talk to her.

* * *

After freeing themselves, trashing the lab and inciting the most wonderful howls of defeat from the horrible man, Bill split off from his brother. Saying there was just something he wanted to see. Ignoring Barry's extremely confused look very much, yes.

He found her in her room, sitting at her vanity. She looked as if she were preparing for bed, only a white sheer nightgown to preserve any modesty, and as she rose to go to bed she looked up and saw him in the doorway, pink as her earlier gown. Not that anyone could tell, in the red lamp light.

She didn't scream. Her eyes widened minutely, she tensed briefly, glancing about quickly (for a weapon, an escape route or her father was up in the air) and focused on him, but she didn't scream. Her eyes weren't dead or dull, now. Subdued, a flickering flame, but not burnt out. There was something here to save, and dammit, he'd see it done.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice had life now (not nearly as much as there should be, he knew somehow), a little low rasp he really hadn't been expecting. It sent shivers down his spine that settled in his belly, but he ignored that for the moment.

Smiling slightly, leaning against the doorframe, he replied quietly, "I wanted to properly meet the woman who aided my brother and I. Say thank you." The second, the _second_ , 'thank you' left his lips he saw a flash of fear in her eyes. Squashed the rise of rage in him at that, because his mind was going all kinds of bad places and he didn't want to frighten her. He let his smile grow, let the kindness in him show, and she relaxed. Enough that he stepped forward, wrapped arms around her in a gentle hug whispering what he came to say in her ear, and felt like tearing Lucifer Mongfish to the building blocks of his anatomy when she stiffened in his hold, like a simple hug was an alien thing to her.

She sighed and relaxed again, after a moment. Then she all but melted, and he would later swear she started purring. A time passed, indeterminate, and he cared not at all. When he pulled back (too long, not long enough, but he needed to leave) and looked her in the eye, he did his level best not too feel smug. He didn't succeed, but he did try.

She looked almost drunk, and the way she was leaning on him her legs probably weren't going to hold her if he let go. Not that he wanted to, she was warm and soft and nothing really needed doing except his leaving right then, but he knew he had to.

He scooped her up, bridal style (and oh, there was a thought. Later, Heterodyne, now was _not_ the time), a small gasp escaping her as he carried her to her bed. Laid her down gently and sat on the edge. She lay on her back, still looking a bit surprised at him. Left arm by her head, right out by her side, luxurious red-gold hair fanned out under her, her slow breathes making her ample chest rise and fall . . . she looked like innocence, for all he knew she wasn't. She blinked up at him, obviously tired, and he smiled one last time (not for long, it wouldn't be, he would not _allow_ it to be).

Couldn't stop himself from leaning in slowly, watching her eyes widen again, then flutter shut as he pressed his lips to hers. Soft and supple, giving beneath him (he wanted her, right then. He needed to leave), another timeless moment he couldn't put a definite amount to as he massaged her lips with his. He only barely stopped himself from tasting her, knowing he'd not leave anytime soon if he did. He broke away and gazed down at her, his lips tingling and breathes heavy, coming short and fast, his body hot despite the chill air.

When she opened her eyes, aiming her lidded gaze up at him - her breathing pace matched his, and the smugness only increased as he peripherally viewed her bosom heaving ever so slightly-, he nearly fell off the edge of the bed.

Fire, verdant fire in her eyes, passion's heat and his body warmed further at the sight.

He needed to leave. Now. He said as much.

The blazing in her eyes banked, but nowhere near to before. A simmer, then, waiting to be turned up. Waiting for _him_ to turn it up, he realized after a moment. He swallowed hard, gripping her sheets.

She grinned. A mad, mad grin that showed her pearly whites perfectly framed by her crimson lips. A Spark grin. She spoke low and sweet, husky for her weariness and more than a little from his attentions, he ventured, "You may come to regret this, William Heterodyne."

This woman-! Really. He huffed at her, then, an equally Sparky smirk on his face. "No, I really don't think I will, Lucrezia Mongfish." And forced himself to leave, because otherwise he'd stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment, yah?


End file.
